


A Tale of Two Combat Medics

by rab5298



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Backstory, Battle of the Bulge, Building a relationship, Carentan, Combat Medics, Comedy, Crossroads, Crossroads Battle, Doc Roe is the best, Don't mess with a girl from New England, Episode: s01e01 Currahee, Episode: s01e02 Day of Days, Episode: s01e06 Bastogne, Episode: s01e07 The Breaking Point, Episode: s01e08 The Last Patrol, Episode: s01e10 Points, Eugene Roe is incredibly caring, F/M, Female Soldier, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Funny moments from George Luz are a must!, Gene is very supportive, George Luz is the Wingman too, George Luz is the best friend to my character in this story., George Luz loves to tease, Getting through the war together, Invasion of Normandy, Kissing, Liberation of Eindhoven, Love Confessions, Moments of angst, Not a Mary Sue, Other, Paratroopers, Period-Typical Sexism, Replacements, Romance, Soldier girl, Soldiers, Supporting One Another, Switiching POV, Teamwork, Training at Camp Toccoa, WWII, War, You'll fall more in love with Doc Roe, Young Love, basically the plot of the show but some ad-lib, brothers in arms, life before the war, proving people wrong, some strong language, why we fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rab5298/pseuds/rab5298
Summary: Rachel Bartlett is like most women her age. She works hard to get what she wants, no matter how long and difficult it is for her to meet her end goal. It was with that can-do spirit she became the first woman to enlist in Easy Company as a combat medic, quickly winning over the officers and the other soldiers in the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment and the 101st Airborne Division.Eugene Roe is quiet and serious. He keeps to himself and distances from his fellow soldiers for he knows the consequences of getting too close to somebody during the time of war. That changes when he is made a combat medic in Easy Company and meets Rachel, resulting in a growing attraction between the two medics.Both try to hide their feelings for one another as the fast approaching drop into Normandy looms over their heads, however after a brief chat about how each one is feeling about the invasion, both realize they need each other more than ever, resulting in the two confessing their love for one another. Romance blossoms quickly between the two medics, but will it be enough for them to survive the war?Based off of the HBO miniseries, Band of Brothers.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note  
I had this idea in my head for a while now, probably because during my freshman year of college, I re-watched Band of Brothers and fell in love with it all over again. It’s one of those shows that I will never get tired of watching repeatedly. After watching up until episode two: Day of Days, I had this dream that I was an Easy Company paratrooper who dropped into Normandy on D-Day. For some reason the scene I remembered the most from my dream was when I was falling to the ground. That scene kept replaying again and again. It was so vivid, it felt like I was there. It felt I could feel and hear everything like the gravity pulling me to the ground, the anti-aircraft guns, the whoosh of the chutes being released, etc.  
Some nights later, I had another dream. The dream this time was Bastogne where I was sharing a foxhole with none other than my favorite and perhaps one of the most underappreciated characters in the entire show, Doc Roe. It was a very sweet moment because he was comforting me after I was crying about how the war was taking a toll on me. Bastogne was the episode I thought was the most interesting because the story was told through the perspective of a combat medic, given they aren’t the subject of several books, movies or video games. Soon enough, I couldn’t stop thinking about that dream, imagining myself as a combat medic with him to try and help him with his difficult job.  
The story itself is a combination of history, love, friendship and courage. It is still the same Easy Company soldiers that you know and love from the show and many good moments to come! There may be moments of doubt, sadness or heartbreak, but it is only a test of human strength and spirit, for we can hope for a happy ending for these characters that they may see the end of the war, despite going through hardships in order to get there. I certainly do hope anyone who reads this enjoys it and see the story through two medics who are trying to support each other through a challenging time period with one similar goal in mind: survive.  
-Rachel  
* Based off of the actors portrayals always. Never the real men. The cover was hand drawn by me!*
> 
> Same Playlist used for To Be Loved With All My Heart if you wish to check it out here again:  
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc

**Prologue  
**

  1. The world has been at war for three years. Some countries have been involved right from the start, for others it took longer to join the skirmish. It was not until December of last year the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, bringing the United States officially into the war and declaring Germany as another enemy three days later. The attack on American soil drove several ambitious young men and women to enlist and fight for freedom in all branches of the military. 

A new company was created to fight in the European Theatre of War: the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment (PIR), an experimental airborne regiment that was created at Camp Toccoa in Georgia with the primary mission of parachuting from C-47s over hostile enemy territory. It was the first the world had seen paratroopers utilized in combat and would continue to serve in key battles across the Western Front that only the history books talked about like D-Day and the Battle of the Bulge. But this story isn’t about those battles. This story is about the people that were involved in these said battles. These people were the ones who put their lives at stake on the front lines battling against bullets and artillery shells every single day with their unit and having no weapons to protect themselves except for a bag filled with medical supplies, their bare hands and their quick thinking. These people were combat medics. 

The medics were the most popular, appreciated and respected in any military unit. Yes, they were miracle workers, angels of the battlefield they were called. The medics, however were not sent on a mission from God. No orders to follow unless if it was from the wounded crying out for their aid, no weapons to use except for their hands to stop Death in its tracks and no time to spare, only responding on short notice, throwing themselves into the middle of firefights to provide the best care they could for their brothers. These medics were also part of an elite group of paratroopers that was formed in that same summer at Camp Toccoa; Easy Company, soon to be later known as the famed Band of Brothers. 

Though these medics were brought together for the same cause, they come from two completely different worlds back home. One, a woman from Massachusetts who’s ambitious, outgoing and refuses to take no for an answer and a quiet, serious and seemingly detached man from Louisiana, who’s gentle touch calms others in an instant. Despite their differences, these two medics were nonetheless dedicated to serving the men in their company. The two medics have formed an unbreakable bond that not even the war could break apart, even if it wanted to. A bond that is forged only in combat when the world needed ordinary men and women to come together to do something extraordinary. This is the tale of those two combat medics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Yes I am back with a new story! I have had this story idea for a while now and I wanted to get back to writing it. Prince Eugene is still going to happen, just wanted to make more of a dent in this one too! The prologue is short, but that gives me more to add to the other chapters. (Don't want to give away too much! XD) Hope you guys will enjoy this as much as To Be Loved With All My Heart! Comments and Kudos are welcome and encouraged! Also, same thing with Prince Eugene Chapter 1=Prologue, etc.
> 
> For the prologue listen to these songs:  
1.) Company of Heroes 2-Western Front Armies Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fo4SQMv8J9I&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=45 (This sets the tone for the whole story if you listen to it a few times)
> 
> 2.) Band of Brothers Main Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DUN1B8eaks&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=1
> 
> 3\. Medal of Honor Airborne OST-Airborne (End Credits): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZQFOFjvBEU&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=66  
*Guess all three kinda set the tone for this story!*


	2. PART ONE: We're a Part of this Now & Currahee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music to listen to for this chapter:
> 
> 1.) A String of Pearls- Glenn Miller & His Orchestra https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Prj-PKDPGZw&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=130
> 
> 2.) Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, oh!-The Andrews Sisters https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YbgLSer33hk&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=140

**Chapter 1**

**Rachel Bartlett-Boston, Massachusetts USA**

“Rachel, did you get those reports typed up yet?”

“Yes, Mr. McArthur. They’re all right here. All typed up and not a single crease on the page.” Rachel handed the older man a crisp manila folder containing the typed up documents. She was an attractive woman with thick, dark brown hair that was neatly curled as best as she could manage it with big brown eyes to match. Short, coming in at 5’3” for a woman in her late teens to early 20s, not even heels could help her gain a decent amount of height. Her lips curled into a confident smile, one that showed she took pride in her work, no matter how small and mundane the tasks at hand were. She sat up in the small chair, straightening her white blouse and smoothed her navy blue skirt before folding her hands together. 

The office building was small, close to Faneuil Hall and the Old State House with the golden unicorn perched proudly atop the white-roofed building. Several rows of desks lined the grey floors and the soft lamplight illuminating the other girl’s faces who quietly kept to their secretarial work, the occasional shuffle of the papers or the clack of the typewriter keys echoed in the room like it was Symphony Hall. Rachel held her hands in front of her like she was carrying a large basket filled with laundry. 

Mr. McArthur scanned the documents through his bifocals. He was around her father’s age, 50s or 60s with streaks of gray hair in his once brown locks that were now combed over. He reminded her of one of the history teachers from her high school with his tweed jackets and colorful bow ties and speaking with an eloquent and intellectual air. He was a tall, skinny man, with a bit of a stomach forming. The crinkles around his eyes seemed to get deeper, his eyes squinting to read her handiwork though it was visible enough on the page. His moustache and bearded mouth twitched into a warm smile and nodded his head in approval.

“Excellent work as always, Rachel.” He handed the manila folder back to her as she placed it back on top of her desk. “I wish some of the other girls were like you with their work ethic.” Some of the other women raised their heads up, giving him looks of disapproval or shook their heads and suppressing their laughter. “Not that they’re not hard-workers of course!.” Mr. McArthur’s voice dropped to a soft whisper as he gestured for Rachel to walk with him. “They’re just not as organized and efficient as you.” A small chuckle escaped from Rachel’s lips. 

“Well, someone’s gotta be. Might as well be me right?” Rachel shuffled the rest of the papers together in a net stack before stapling them, earning herself a hearty laugh from her boss. 

“With that kind of efficiency, Rachel you’re going to be a great fit for the Army, hell or even the nursing corps!” Mr. McArthur said, proudly. Rachel stood up from her chair and smoothed the back of her skirt as she plucked her brown purse off of the coat rack, slinging it over her shoulder. A hum, mixed with a chuckle escaped her lips. 

“Try telling that to my mother,” she said. “I’ve brought it up to her before but you know how much she hates the idea of me wanting to fight in a war.” She handed her papers to her boss. 

“Well, you know what I always say. You can put your mind to anything you want to do as long as you believe in it," Mr. McArthur said with a smile. Rachel gathered up her things quickly. 

"Now you sound like my father," she said with a chuckle. She turned on her heel and walked out of the building. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Boston had cooled for the evening, a relief from the oppressive summer heat. Rachel’s curls turned more to frizz and waves but she didn’t care, relishing in the cool breeze on her skin and not having to breathe in the scent of cigarettes for once. The city was unusually quiet except for a few dogs barking in the distance, a few cars rumbling over the smoothly paved roads, and the jazz music emerging from some of the restaurants. The lights glowing from the skyscrapers made Boston feel more alive now that most of the men had gone off to war which meant less catcalling and jaws dropping. Rachel walked down the once bustling Scollay Square to Joe and Nemo’s Hot Dog Stand.

The outside of the restaurant looked like a dump, but the inside was what mattered the most. It was small and cramped since it used to be a barber shop, then a bar but the food was to die for. The scent of fresh grease wafted through Rachel’s nose and the sweet, sugary scent of the soda fountain was enough to make her mouth water. She took a seat on top of a silver coated stool at the soda fountain. 

“One hot dog and a Coca Cola, please,” she said to a young soda jerk, who looked about her age, maybe a little older. He nodded his head, continuing to polish his soda glass with a rag. The atmosphere was relaxed. The joyful sounds of Glenn Miller and his Orchestra playing “A String of Pearls” echoed on the jukebox. A copy of the Boston Globe lay next to Rachel as she waited for her order to be completed. Her foot tapped against the legs of the stool in time to the rhythm of the music as she grabbed the newspaper, thumbing through it, reading the headlines such as _ U.S. Forces Continue to Blast Solomon Islands, Buy War Bonds Today! _ And whatever job postings were available. 

“One hotdog and one soda for you, miss,” the soda jerk said, with a shy smile. Rachel looked up from her reading and smiled once she received her food. 

“Thank you,” she said. The soda jerk gave her another shy smile before returning back to his work quietly re-organizing shelves, sometimes whistling a tune to himself. Rachel took a bite of her meal, keeping the newspaper close to her as her eyes skimmed the job listings section. Her eyes caught the attention of another headline: ** _New Airborne Regiment Seeking Recruits. Think you got what it takes to be a paratrooper? Enlist today. Good payment $50. _ **

_ Paratroopers, huh? _ Rachel thought to herself. _ Good payment means we can get more of those bills paid off! _The doors of Joe and Nemo’s opened violently, but not enough to distract Rachel from her reading. Several men clad in Navy blue sailor uniforms stumbled through the door, hooting and hollering, clapping each other on the backs, earning themselves several looks of disapproval from some of the other restaurant patrons, some hungrier and seductive looks from the younger women. 

The rowdy sailors crowded around the soda fountain, shouting orders at the soda jerk, stumbling and pushing each other to see who could get the man’s attention first. One of the sailors nudged his buddy in the stomach, catching sight of Rachel, some wolf-whistling. She didn’t acknowledge it, but faintly heard one of them whisper: “Check out the dame we got over here, fellas.” One of the Navy men approached her, stumbling and sliding across the seats. Rachel paid no attention to the man. He took that as encouragement to keep coming into her personal space. 

“How you doin’ dollface?” he said, trying to form coherent words. Rachel turned towards the sailor. He could’ve been quite handsome if it weren’t for the fact his blonde hair was unkempt, his green eyes were bloodshot and his uniform askew. He was close enough that Rachel could smell his breath. The odor made her want to gag which smelled like he had bathed in a tub of whiskey, rum and any type of alcohol combined. She folded the newspaper up, no smile cracking across her pale face.

“Can I help you with something?” she said, plain and simple, arching one of her eyebrows unimpressed by this man’s performance. 

“Nothing much, gorgeous,” the sailor slurred. “What’s a dame like you doing sitting by youssself?” 

“None of your business.” Rachel said, re-opening her newspaper. The sailor pulled the newspaper out of her hands and licked his lips. He leaned over her, sizing her up like she was his next meal. He glanced over at the newspaper ad. 

“Paratroops eh? Why would you be interessssted in them?”the sailor slurred. “They’re a bunch of morons who jump out of a perfectly good plane. All bullshit. Who’d wanna see a bunch of guys dropping like flower petals in the wind?” Rachel stood up quickly to avoid the sailor’s advances. 

“You never know. Could be what we need to win this war” she said, backing away from the sailor. He placed his hand on her thigh in a poor attempt to steady himself and make his way over to her lips. 

“Why don’tcha ssshut ya yapper dollll,” the sailor slurred. Rachel tried pushing the sailor off of her, only making him retaliate by grabbing her hip forcefully. 

“Get off me!” Rachel yelled. 

“Whatcha gonna do if I don’t?” the sailor said, licking his lips, his bloodshot eyes almost rolling in the back of his head from the alcohol, going for a second attempt at a kiss. Rachel pulled her other hand away from the sailor’s grasp, backhanding him against his cheek, a loud slap echoed off the walls in the hot dog joint. The sailor keeled over and held his now reddened cheek. 

“You fucking bitch!” His cheek stung, only making his vision worse as his sailor friends laughed. The sailor curled his hands into fists, trying to take a swing at Rachel. But Rachel was quicker and punched him square in the face a loud _ crack! _From the soldier’s now bloodied nose as the jukebox changed to The Andrew Sisters playful “Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, oh!” 

“Oops,” Rachel said innocently as she shrugged her shoulders, trying not to laugh. She shot a dirty look at the other sailors. “Don’t you fatheads try and make a pass on me unless if you want to end up just like your friend here.” The sailors cowered in fear in the corner, quickly dispersing and trying to pull their friend away from Rachel again. Rachel dug through her purse, quickly pulling out a handful of dollars and placed them on the countertop in front of the soda jerk. “Keep the change.” She gathered up her newspaper quickly and ran out of Joe and Nemo’s, the angry sailor shouting and cursing after her as she sped home. 

***

Rachel entered her apartment, catching her breath and trying to process what had happened. She massaged her temples, exhaling a deep sigh trying to think of what to say to her parents. She hung her purse up on the coat rack in the hallway of the apartment. It wasn’t too big, and it wasn’t too small either, but Rachel’s family wasn’t the Rockefellers. It was cozy and comfortable, just the way Rachel liked it. The lamp atop of the small brown drawers in the living room was turned on, a soft, warm glow emulating from the shade and throughout that section of the room like a small sun. All the windows in the house were open to let in a soft breeze, the white curtains rising and falling gently like the waves pulling back from the shore. 

“Hi. I’m home,” she called out. The Bartletts turned towards their daughter’s voice. 

“In the kitchen, honey!” Mrs. Bartlett called from the distance. Rachel walked towards the tiny kitchen, the newspaper clippings tucked underneath her arm as her heels clicked on the shiny hardwood floor. People said she looked exactly like her mother and that the two could be sisters with their similar appearances, then again she did get her father’s sense of humor. Mrs. Bartlett had finished putting the dishes away, her father and younger brother clearing off the table with their dirty dishes.

“You’re home late tonight, kiddo,” Mr. Bartlett said. He was the same age as Mr. McArthur, but even now he looked so much younger than he did when he was around Rachel’s age. “Busy night?” Rachel took an apple from the fruit basket, polishing it up on her shirt sleeve. 

“Nah.” She took a large bite as she pushed herself up onto one of the countertops. “Kinda slow tonight so I got out early.”

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want them,” Mrs. Bartlett said, pointing to the fridge with her elbow.

“That’s okay, mom,” Rachel said. “I stopped for a bite to eat at Joe and Nemo’s on my way home.” She took another bite. Her mother closed the white cabinets and wiped her hands on her floral print apron. She glanced at the newspaper clipping under her daughter’s arm. 

“What’s that?”

“Oh this?” Rachel said in between her apple. She swallowed and pulled the newspaper from its hiding spot, handing it off to her mother. “An advertisement. To join the paratroopers.” Mrs. Bartlett read the newspaper silently to herself several times, eyes swimming in information like how she always did whenever she read something, making sure she didn’t miss a single detail. 

Rachel slid off the countertop, smoothing the back of her skirt, folding her hands behind her back like she was standing at attention. A lump formed in her throat. Swallowing became difficult as she did so. She knew what was coming next. She sucked her lower lip, feeling her stomach churning into knots like a child in elementary school who had been picked to speak in front of the entire class. She wrung her hands behind her back, fighting off the urge to bite her fingernails. 

“Well, that’s nice that it pays good money,” Mrs. Bartlett started. She handed the newspaper clipping back over to her daughter. “But, Rachel. You know how I feel about you wanting to join the Army.”

“I know, but---”

“What’s up now?” said Mr. Bartlett. Rachel handed her father the newspaper. He too scanned over it intently. His eyebrows raised in speculation. “ You want to go over to Europe where people are dying left and right just so you can kill people?”

“No! No! I never said anything about killing people.” Rachel said, throwing her hands up in defense and shaking her head. “I just feel like I should be doing something more to help out with the war effort.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t want to be stuck sitting in an office all day.” 

“What are you saying, Rachel?” Mrs. Bartlett said, her hazel eyes shone with confusion and worry. Rachel took a deep breath, keeping her back to her mother as she carefully thought out the words she was going to say.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now, mom,” Rachel said steadily. She took another deep breath as she turned to her mother. “I want to become a combat medic for the Airborne.” Mrs. Bartlett nearly froze when she heard those words pour out of her daughter’s mouth. Rachel turned back towards the window and sucked in a long breath, her hands loosening from their tight fists as she let them drop to her sides. “I know what you’re gonna say. It’s too dangerous and too risky--”

“Rachel,” Mrs. Bartlett said gently. She approached her daughter carefully as she placed a hand on her shoulder, coaxing her to look at her. Rachel could see the pain written all over her mother’s face, but she was trying to stay strong for the both of them. “If that’s what you truly want. As much as your father and I don’t want you to go, you’re an adult now. You’re capable of making your own decisions now.” Tears welled in the corners of Rachel’s brown eyes as she hugged her mother tightly. 

“I love you, mom,” she said quietly. She shut her eyes tightly to prevent her tears from falling but it was no use. Her tears fell faster, nearly choking back a sob.

“I love you too, sweetie,” Mrs. Bartlett said, running her fingers through her daughter’s hair, just holding her like she was a little girl again. Neither of them knew if this was going to be the last time they would see each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! What's this you ask? That's right! A new chapter! Sorry it took so long for me to update this. Senior year of college and life kinda caught up to me and I couldn't get inspired/ find the motivation to write for the longest time. I'm trying a new style that I'm borrowing from Michael Grant, the author of the Front Lines book series. If you guys haven't read the books yet you should. They're an awesome alternate history series where women were allowed to fight in WWII and follows three women who are participating in it. Feedback and Kudos are always welcome here. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Next chapter we are gonna get a glimpse of Doc's life before he enlisted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you read, listen to these songs at certain points in the chapter:
> 
> 1.) Always In My Heart-Glenn Miller & his Orchestra (when Eugene looks at the pictures of his family members, especialy his grandmother) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RfCVybCmD14&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=133
> 
> 2.) Honor [For Oboe and Strings]-Hans Zimmer, Geoff Zanelli & Blake Neely (When Eugene's mother gives him the necklace and when they talk about before he leaves. Prepare to cry. I did when writing this chapter. )https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyzGl9_FDUw&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=3

**Chapter 2**

**Eugene Roe-Bayou Chene, Louisiana USA**

“Eugene can you pass the salt please,  _ chère?  _ The jambalaya is a lil on the dry side this evenin’. Pass the tabasco sauce too.”

“Save some fo’ me too, mama.”

“Gotta make sure there’s ‘nuff fo’ everybody at the table. Not just you,  _ mon fils _ .” Mrs. Roe says with a chuckle. 

Eugene Roe is nineteen and handsome; not too tall and not too short, 5’10” perfectly in between for an average heighted man. He has a lean build, something that seems to attract all the women in his parish trying to steal glances at him whatever chance they can get. He doesn’t mind it, but some of the comments and their behavior around him makes him feel uncomfortable, but he never retorts back at them for his mother taught him better than that. His complexion is pale, his hair so black and coarse like a raven’s wing cut neatly and sticking up a little towards the front. His eyes a dark, but calming shade of blue, one could mistake them for brown upon first glance. 

Eugene stares down at the helping of jambalaya on his plate and eats in silence. His nose twitched as his pink lips chewed in silence, his square jaw moving up and down like he was in deep thought. His long fingers curled around his fork, rough and calloused from hoisting shrimp traps all day, but gentle to the touch; the hands of a healer according to his grandmother. 

“We gotta ration more than ever now that the United States is involved in this rigamarole.” Mrs. Roe points out. Eugene nodded his head, still paying attention to the food on his plate rather than to his family. 

“How was work today, son?” Ed Roe asks in between bites. His rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and the hints of gray peaking towards the edges of his black hair. He spoke clean and clear like John Wayne, no accent, no difficulty pronouncing words. Eugene lifted his head up from his plate, his lips forming an “o” shape making him look like an innocent schoolboy.

“What?” Eugene’s usually soft Cajun accent rang louder like a church bell signifying the change in the hour. His younger brothers chuckled behind their water glasses, earning themselves a look of disapproval from their mother. 

“I sad how was work today.” Eugene sat up straighter in his chair, swallowing his bit of jambalaya. 

“‘S’alright. Lotta boys talkin’ ‘bout how they wanna join up to fight.” He wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin and folded it in front of him again. “Some of ‘em are already gettin’ shipped over to the Pacific. Some of ‘em to Europe.” He took a sip of water. A sigh escaped his lips after he drank it and placed it on top of the checked tablecloth before digging into his mother’s home cooking again. 

“Did you sign up for the army today, Eugene?” Mr. Roe says in between bites. “I remember you mentioned the airborne to us.” Eugene pauses a moment, his lips forming a tight, thin line. He feels his mother’s eyes on him, almost bearing through him. His siblings turn their gaze on their middle brother. A lump forms in Eugene’s throat, forcing him to take another sip of his water to clear his airways. He licks his lips before bringing his gaze up to meet his family’s. 

“Yes, sir,” Eugene replied, short and simple. Eugene’s siblings sunk lower into their chairs. “As a combat medic.” 

“A combat medic?” Ed Roe said. “Say, that’s not bad at all!” 

“Did they give you the position?” Mrs. Roe said. Eugene swallowed another bite of his jambalaya. He nodded his head and wiped the corners of his mouth. 

“Yes they did,” he replied. “They found it remarkable that I got no medical experience. Worked hard fo’ it.”

“When do you leave?” Mrs. Roe said quietly. 

“Tomorrow mornin’” Eugene said. “Sendin’ me to Georgia fo’ basic training.” The Roe household fell silent once again. Eugene didn’t know what else he could say. The air was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Eugene glanced up and looked at his younger brothers. Tears welled in their eyes, a pang of guilt twisted itself in Eugene’s chest. 

“Please Eugene,” his youngest brother, John said. His lip began quivering as fat tears rolled down his round cheeks. “Please don’t go.” Eugene quickly crossed his silverware over his plate and pushed it away from him, dinner no longer appealed to him. He stood up, feeling sick to his stomach. 

“Will you excuse me,  _ maman?” _

_ “Oui, ma chèrie _ . Of course,” Mrs. Roe said softly. Eugene tucked his chair in. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked briskly up to his room. 

***

Eugene sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hands together, his elbows rested on top of his kneecaps. The soft static on the radio and the soft notes of Glenn Miller and his Orchestra playing “Always in My Heart” echoed off the walls in his room. He gazed down towards the soft, grey carpeted floors of his childhood room then towards the picture of himself and his four siblings when they were younger. His two older sisters Minnie and Winnie stood in the back on the top stairs, smiling with their hair cut short and their pretty dresses. His eyes shifted to where himself and his two brothers John and Charles stood on the lower steps. 

Eugene chuckled to himself when he looked at his much younger face. His shoulders were drawn up to his ears, his dark hair was combed over to one side and had long socks pulled up to his knees, despite it being ridiculously hot outside. The bow tie made him more uncomfortable. The pout on his face said it all; he did not want his picture taken that day. He hummed to himself, trying not to laugh as he picked up another picture of himself and his grandmother. He smiled a sad smile, holding the picture frame in his lap. He was about the same age there sitting on his grandmother’s lap with his teddy bear. Her bright smile and gentle eyes could cure any sadness in the room, something Eugene enjoyed when he was little along with her famous beignets. She was the one who taught him about his faith in God and to help others whenever he could. 

Eugene’s smile fell from his face. Goosebumps covered his skin as he wiped his wet eyes. He didn’t even notice the tears had started falling until they hit the picture frame. It had been four years since she passed away. Eugene missed her with each passing day, but made a promise to himself that he would continue to remember the lessons his grandmother taught him when he was a child. A soft knock came from outside of his bedroom door. 

“Eugene?” his mother said softly, poking her head into his room. Eugene wiped his eyes quickly and placed the picture of his grandmother next to him on his blue comforter. 

“You can come in, mama,” he said softly. Mrs. Roe pushed the white bedroom door open carefully, a slight creak came from it as she entered. She smoothed her skirt and sat next to her son. Eugene glanced down at his mother’s hands. She held a small, mahogany jewelry box, a gold lock on the front like a music box. “Whatcha got there, mama?”

“I wanted to give this to you ‘fore you left tomorrow mornin’,” Mrs. Roe said gently. “But, I think it’d be better if I gave it to you now.” Mrs. Roe handed the small box to her son. Eugene took it gingerly, his long fingers wrapping around the smooth edges and carefully undoing the small lock. He lifted the top gently, seeing a white lacy handkerchief resting on top. He took the handkerchief away, his heart nearly stopped upon seeing what it was that lay inside of the red velvet. 

_ “Grandmère’s  _ prayer necklace?” he said softly _ ,  _ his voice almost croaking. Mrs. Roe nodded her head gently. She placed a hand behind her son to steady herself. 

“Your grandma remembered how much you loved this necklace,” she said running her thumb over the small oval and the rope. “She would’ve wanted yous ta have it. That way, she’s always close to yous.” Mrs. Roe glanced at the picture next to him, a gentle smile touched her lips. Soft tears leaked out of her dark brown eyes. “She’d be so proud of what you’re about to do fo’ all of us and this country _ , mon garçon.” _ Eugene slid closer to his mother and embraced her in a warm hug. He kissed the side of her head. 

“I know she would, mama,” Eugene said softly. “I’ll take good care of her necklace.” Mrs. Roe embraced her son tighter, feeling more tears stream down her face like waterfalls. 

“Promise me that you’ll take care of youself when you git ova there too, Gene” Mrs. Roe said. “Promise me that you’ll write me, your daddy and your brothers and sisters whenever yous git the chance. Just so we know that you’re safe and sound.”

“I will, mama. I promise.” Mrs. Roe pulled away to look at her third born. She held his cheeks, brushing them gently with her thumbs, sniffing back her tears.

“My handsome boy,” she said, a smile formed over her lips. The crow’s feet around her eyes crinkled like wrapping paper. “My handsome and brave boy. Never forget how much your father and I love you. We’re so proud of you, Eugene.” 

Eugene pulled his mother into another hug, closing his eyes, feeling like that little boy he saw in the picture next to his bed again for a moment, not wanting to think about what the war was going to be like when he was going over there. He had to stay strong, not just for himself but for his whole family. 

_ “Je t’aime aussi, maman.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! The chapter where we learn a little bit about Doc's life before he enlisted! Kudos and Comments are always welcomed and encouraged here. Next chapter we move into basic training and we meet the other guys in Easy Company! 
> 
> Translations for the French:  
Chere-darling  
Grandmere-Grandmother  
mon garcon-my boy  
maman-mama   
Je t'aime aussi, maman.-I love you too, mama.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music to listen to for this Chapter:
> 
> 1.) Night Drop Prelude- Joel Goldsmith (Call of Duty 3) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5r7ySLd-XQ&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=116 (listen up til 1:04)
> 
> 2.) Suite One-Michael Kamen (Band of Brothers) (for when they begin their run up Currahee) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pS6jtUY7SLY&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=2 (start it at 1:28)
> 
> 3.) Praying-Rupert Gregson-Williams (Hacksaw Ridge) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kT9zG0g4HdA&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=123 (Could also be used during the run up Currahee. This might come in again at a later chapter.)

### Chapter 3

**Eugene Roe-Camp Toccoa, Georgia, USA**

The hot, muggy Georgia sun beat down on the back of each soldier’s neck the longer they stood under it in their dress greens. Eugene didn’t mind for he was immune to heat like this, an advantage from being from Louisiana. The air smelled heavily of peach blossoms and not a single cloud littered the clear blue skies. The soldiers would look up at them if they could if it weren’t for the fact that a tall, slender man with tan skin and a long looking face approached the rows. Eugene and the rest of the soldiers hated this man since day one; his name didn’t help either, making it sound like a delicious ice cream treat that went sour Herbert Sobel. He wore a tan Garrison hat that was tilted to one side and a dark brown bomber jacket with a sheepskin collar. 

“You people are at the position of attention!” Sobel yelled. He bobbed and weaved up and down the lines of soldiers inspecting each one carefully. He stopped at a man who was shorter than he was. Tan skin, thick, dark bushy eyebrows and dark brown eyes who was holding a gun that was way too big for him. Sobel glanced down at the creases on the soldier’s pants. “Pvt. Perconte, have you been blousing your trousers over your boots like a paratrooper should?”

“No, sir” Perconte replied. A short man who hailed from Joliet, Illinois but had the look of a steeply Italian. He stared out past the man, standing as tall as he could make himself out to be to show he wasn’t intimidated by Sobel. 

“Then explain these creases at the bottom.”  
“No excuse, sir.” Sobel towered over the shorter man like he was a tree about to be felled. 

“Volunteering for the Parachuting Infantry is one thing, Perconte, but you’ve got a long way to prove that you belong here,” said Sobel, dejectedly. “Your weekend pass is revoked.” He moved down the row to another short soldier with bright, friendly brown eyes. “Name?”

“Luz, George.” The soldier said. His New England accent slipping out, not as smooth as Eugene’s accent. Luz tossed up his weapon to Sobel, standing stick straight as the captain inspected his gun.

“Dirt in the rear sight aperture. Pass revoked.” He tossed the gun back to Luz, continuing to move down the line like a snake waiting to find it’s next target. Sobel stopped when he saw a female standing up front. He raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“Name?”

“Bartlett, Rachel A.” she said standing at attention. Some of the other soldiers had to hold in their laughter before it spilled out, causing more dirty looks from Sobel to be shot in their general direction.

“You say you wanna be a combat medic?’’ said Sobel He towered over Rachel, making her look even smaller than she already was.

“Yes, sir,” Rachel said loud and clear. She didn’t even flinch when the man loomed over her. 

“There’s gotta be some mistake. They’re letting broads in the army now?” Sobel said in disbelief. “Are they really that desperate?” Eugene could see the girl out of his periphery. Even he thought the same thing, but had to admit she was pretty.

“No mistake, sir.” Rachel said, loud and clear. 

“You really think you’re gonna be a combat medic with your size, Bartlett?” Sobel said, leering over her. He noticed a rip under one of the sleeves of her uniform. “Not with holes poking out all over the place. Revoked.” 

Eugene could hear Sobel’s footsteps getting closer to him, and hearing what the other soldiers had been revoked for. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, keeping his gaze strong and focused out in front of him. He kept his breathing steady when Sobel approached him.

“Name?”

“Roe, Eugene G.” He took another deep breath, not daring to blink. Sobel caught sight of the flare of his nose and the slight heave of his chest. 

“You nervous about something, Roe?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Then why are you taking deep breaths?”

“No excuse, sir.” Sobel took a look at the airborne patch on Eugene’s left shoulder. 

“When did you sew this patch on, Private?”

“Yesterday, sir.” Sobel pulled a loose thread off of Eugene’s shoulder, looking quite disappointed.

“Long enough to notice this. Revoked.” Sobel walked towards the small group of soldiers “Now, thanks to these men, this..._ woman _ and their infractions, everyone in the company who had a weekend pass has lost it. Change into your PT gear. We’re running Currahee.” Sobel walked away quickly, leaving charge to a taller man with red hair and soft hazel eyes. He spoke in a gentler tone of voice.

“2nd Platoon, fall out. We have two minutes.” 

***

The barracks were much larger than his bedroom at home. Two rows of beds lined each side of the walls with the other soldiers personal belongings tucked under their beds neatly or on top of the shelves above. The sun poured through the door and the windows as the other soldiers in Easy Company started changing into their PT gear. 

“I ain’t going up that hill” said Perconte. Another soldier jogged in with a more square jawline and a face that almost never seemed to smile.

“Hey, Perconte, what are you thinking of, blousing your pants?” the soldier teased. 

“Shut up, alright? He gigged everybody!” Perconte shouted. Eugene slipped his fatigue pants off partly and took off his jacket. He saw the girl named Rachel sitting on the cot next to him as she started changing into her PT gear, except for some of the other soldiers weren’t making it an easy task for her. Some wolf whistled, others made obscene comments. Eugene could see the look in her eyes; she was trying to ignore them but he could see it was bothering her. 

“Y’know what? I’m glad they let broads join the army now” said a soldier with a long pointed nose, one of the men who kept giving her a flirtatious look the minute she walked into Toccoa.

“You got a problem with that?” Rachel said unimpressed by the soldier’s poor attempt to flirt with her. She took off her fatigues, trying to get them over her boots. 

“Not a problem at all,” the pointed nose soldier said, eyeing her up and down, a cocky smirk lingered on his face. “I like her already. She’ll fit right in with Easy Company.”

“Don’t flatter yourself” Rachel said, trying to focus on tying her shoes. “Can you quit looking at me like that?”

“What? You’re uncomfortable taking your clothes off in front of a group of men? That’s pathetic.” Without thinking, Eugene stood up to put an end to this, but George Luz already beat him to it. 

“Hey Lieb, let her get changed in peace will ya?” Luz said. His usually chipper voice a bit more stern. “She said you’re making her uncomfortable. So respect her wishes.” Rachel turned towards Luz, Eugene could see her mouth _ “Thank you” _to him. Eugene stood up and pulled his blanket off of his cot draping it over his arm.

“Here, Luz,” he said softly as he handed the blanket to his fellow soldier. 

“Little warm for blankets, dontcha think, Gene?” Luz quipped. Eugene stuck his tongue into his cheek and sighed. 

“Ain’t like that, George.” Eugene turned towards Rachel. “It’s fo’ her to git changed mo’ comfortably.” Luz smiled one of those toothy grins as he unfolded the blanket. 

“Good call,” he whispered. Eugene took the other corner of the blanket, pulling it taught to give Rachel some better privacy. 

“Sobel’s gonna revoke your passes again for not having your bed properly made.” Rachel said playfully. 

“Don’t matter,” Eugene said. “No one deserves to feel uncomfortable.” A gentle smile tugged at Rachel’s lips. 

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Eugene smiled a shy smile and felt his cheeks tint a light shade of red. Some of the other soldiers trailed out the door as an older man with light brown hair that was neatly combed over to one side jogged up the stairs into the barracks. 

“Alright let’s go! On the road, in PT formation. Let’s move, move, move!” called the older soldier. “Perconte. Let’s go, Perconte.” He turned towards where Eugene and Rachel were. “Luz, Bartlett, Roe, let’s go!” Eugene broke his gaze from Rachel, quickly jogging out the door with Luz and Rachel following close behind him. The barracks were nearly empty except for one soldier who was still sitting on his bed, still dressed in his fatigues. “Pvt. White, why are you not in your PT gear?” The soldier didn’t answer Lipton and averted his gaze from the sergeant. “I asked you a question, private.” The soldier took a second before changing into his gear as Lipton went to join up with the rest of the soldiers.

“Ah, Easy Company,” a soldier from another unit said mockingly. “Hey, while you’re running, don’t worry we’ll take your dames to the movies for you.” The soldier and his buddies laughed as Liebgott and the other soldiers in Easy Company tried to keep their faces straight and focused on becoming the best group of paratroopers the United States was going to see. 

“Yeah, good, they need some female company!” Liebgott shouted. The other soldiers in Easy jogged up behind them, swiping their Garrison caps off of their heads and knocking them to the ground.

***

The sun disappeared behind the clouds for a brief moment as the soldiers continued their run up Currahee. Sweat trickled down the back of Eugene’s neck and cheeks, his dark hair clinging to his forehead and white t-shirt sticking to his body like glue. Out of his periphery, he saw Rachel pass him, less sweaty, but still huffing like the rest of them. 

_ Don’t get distracted, Eugene. Don’t get distracted. _His thighs burned as the incline got steeper, his breathing heavier as the altitude rose. 

“Where do we run?” he heard Sobel call from beside him. 

“Currahee!” The chorus of voices echoed across the valley, Eugene’s own voice being lost in the mix, but the look on his face said it all; he was going to finish running up this goddamn hill like his life depended on it. 

“What’s Currahee mean?”

“We stand alone!” 

“How far up? How far down?”

“Three miles up! Three miles down!” 

“Now what company is this?”

“Easy Company!”

“And what do we do?”

“Stand alone!” 

Eugene watched as a soldier two feet in front of him tripped and nearly sprained his ankle, almost falling forward onto his face. Rachel swooped in with another soldier who had bright red hair and soft brown eyes try to help him up, but she was a lot smaller than the other soldier as she struggled to lift the fallen man. 

“Do not help that man! Do not help that man! Bartlett, don’t even bother trying. How the hell you gonna make it as a medic in this division?” Sobel barked. “You do not stop.” Sobel pulled out a small silver stopwatch. “You have 13 minutes to get to the top of this mountain if you wanna serve in the paratroopers! Hi-yo, silver!”

Eugene noticed Rachel was slowing down a bit. She nearly tripped and fell, thanks to her ankle almost getting twisted on a large rock. He caught her arm swiftly and helped her to steady herself, not caring if Sobel was going to chew him out for it later. 

“You can make it up there,” Eugene said in a soft voice only loud enough for Rachel to hear. “C’mon you can do it. You got it! Don’t stop!” Rachel seemed to take his words with encouragement, quickly nodding her head before taking off into a faster run, the sweat glistening down one of her cheeks but she didn’t care about that, even Lt. Winters and the other soldiers were impressed. Soon enough, Eugene, Rachel and the other soldiers reached the top of the mountain, touching the flat stone before making their trek back down the hill. 

“Never thought I’d see the day, Pvt. Roe,” Sobel said, unphased by his time. “Faster than Bartlett that’s for certain.” Eugene had to hold back every fibre in his being to not lash out at Sobel. “We are coming up on 23 minutes. That may be good enough for the rest of the 506, but that is not good enough for Easy Company!”

_ Just a lil longer, Gene. Then you go back to workin’ in the medic tent in peace and quiet and away from Sobel _, Eugene thought to himself. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Rachel coming down the hill. He felt terrible as to how some of the soldiers were treating her just because she was a woman. He hoped that Sobel didn’t get to her too much. 

_ I’ll make sure she’s seen as an equal. _ _ We need her just as much as we need everyone else here. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! We have been introduced to some more characters! Obviously it's not everyone yet in Easy Company, but the rest will make an appearance very soon! Let's give it up for Doc being a gentleman in this chapter! :D Also, I am using some bits and pieces from the show, but not all of it. Only moments that I feel are necessary. A lot of the scenes will be tweaked somewhat but not a whole lot just so Doc has some more moments that he didn't get a lot of in the show. Comments and Kudos are always welcomed and encouraged here. I love getting feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! Yes I am back with a new story! I have had this story idea for a while now and I wanted to get back to writing it. Prince Eugene is still going to happen, just wanted to make more of a dent in this one too! The prologue is short, but that gives me more to add to the other chapters. (Don't want to give away too much! XD) Hope you guys will enjoy this as much as To Be Loved With All My Heart! Comments and Kudos are welcome and encouraged! Also, same thing with Prince Eugene Chapter 1=Prologue, etc.
> 
> For the prologue listen to these songs:  
1.) Company of Heroes 2-Western Front Armies Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fo4SQMv8J9I&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=45 (This sets the tone for the whole story if you listen to it a few times)
> 
> 2.) Band of Brothers Main Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DUN1B8eaks&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=1
> 
> 3\. Medal of Honor Airborne OST-Airborne (End Credits): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZQFOFjvBEU&list=PL3yUULHJMmR9ZGGQ7XDDof_VgNFu2dGPc&index=66  
*Guess all three kinda set the tone for this story!*


End file.
